


mirrors

by absoluteTomfoolery



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, Disassociation, M/M, after. everything i mean they're married already in this fic, an analysis and description of yuuri's anxiety, disassociating, hopefully it's somewhat accurate, of course. through my lens and my experiences trying to apply it to his character, post series probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 02:50:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8950966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/absoluteTomfoolery/pseuds/absoluteTomfoolery
Summary: When Yuuri woke up, the first thing he noticed was the sound of the rain hitting their bedroom window.





	

**Author's Note:**

> just a disclaimer that this fic contains descriptions of disassociation, i don't know if they'll be entirely accurate or relatable since they're based off of what i've experienced personally. also it's not edited entirely and i'm writing this at 1 AM so if you see the word "continues" replacing the word "contains" like i almost did in this very description, or it gets repetitive repetitive, just bear with me, i'm tired and this new episode funked me up. 
> 
> 2nd fic i've ever written on this website, please be gentle, thank you.

 

When Yuuri woke up, the first thing he noticed was the sound of the rain hitting their bedroom window.

He remembered reading the weather forecast the night before, curled up warm in Viktor’s arms while he watched some documentary on the ocean. The Russian translator on the tv had a deep voice that somehow managed to immediately calm him, and Viktor’s steady heartbeat was no help in keeping him awake. After that, all he remembered were the lights shutting off and settling himself close to his husband, and then warmth, always warmth.

He looked back at his alarm clock, where 9:20 AM read in bright red letters in the darkness of their room. The spot beside him had only very faint traces of warmth, barely detectable. The shower wasn’t echoing from their bathroom, nor were there pots and pans clanging gently from the kitchen, so he figured that Viktor had gone to walk Makkachin. Sure enough, the spot that the dog always took up at the edge of the bed was empty, and Yuuri sat up, leaning his back against the headboard.

When he opened his eyes, he immediately knew something was off; not about his surroundings, but within himself. His eyes were having trouble focusing, and he was taking in the room like it was his first time seeing it, even though it's been almost a year since he's moved in. Only dim morning light filtered in from the blinds that Viktor had left open, no doubt, and the rays illuminated their carpeted flooring. The television was off, and in the matte black screen he saw himself, blurrily. _Who is that?_ Was a brief, passing thought, ignored.

He could have been sitting for five minutes or five hours, all the while his eyes were glued to his reflection, unmoving, and then it would switch to the wall, the windows, the ceiling. He didn’t notice time passing by, but somehow, he peeled himself from beneath his warm covers and shuffled over to the bathroom. _It’s just a bad morning_. He told himself.

When he turned on the shower, he stared at the water for a few moments, watching as it trickled down and steam gradually began to fog up the mirror and fill the room. He stood underneath the warm water, staring down at his feet as he began to shift in and out of focus in a tortuous pattern. He didn’t feel panic, or pressure, or anything that told him his anxiety was acting up again, but he definitely felt off.

It felt like the world was ending around him and he was forced to watch, stone still. It felt like everything was moving and he was alone, bolted to the floor. It felt like he was watching his life go by from a fogged up window. It felt indescribable, it felt unreal. Somehow, we washed his hair and body and only noticed when he saw the suds trickle down the drain, but he still did not leave the shower until long after. When he closed the tap, he stood there, again, listening to the sounds of a collar ringing and cabinets and drawers opening in their living room. _Viktor’s home._ Yuuri registered.

He dried off in front of the mirror, and gradually his actions slowed until his eyes met his own in the reflection. He scanned his own features that began to change and shift, morph into someone else entirely. He couldn’t focus, or maybe he was too focused, or maybe he wasn’t thinking at all. There was a question on the tip of his tongue. As soon as he said it, panic settled from the back of his neck to the bottom of his spine. _Who is that?_ he asked himself, and even to him his voice was alien, strange, unknown. _Somebody is in my bathroom._

“Yuuri!” Viktor called from the kitchen, and a faint smell of eggs somehow trailed in through the closed bathroom door.

When did Viktor get back from walking Makkachin? It must have been when he was showering. How long had he been there? What had he done in such a long span of time? As he opened the door, he avoided the eyes of the stranger doing the same in his reflection, and he dressed himself in sweatpants and a t-shirt before he checked the alarm clock on his nightstand. _11:14_ , it read.

 _Almost an hour_. He thought. _What was I doing?_

When he entered the kitchen, Viktor greeted him with a bright smile, setting down a plate of eggs in front of him with a kiss on his forehead. “You were asleep when I left. How was your morning?”

“It was fine.” Yuuri lied, eyes fixed firmly to his food. “Lonely, without you.” He added, and his husband smiled.

Yuuri smiled back.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on twitter @queen_viicky


End file.
